


Hunt You Down

by idontevenlogic



Series: Knives and Bullets, Lavender and Mint [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Blackmail, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Drug Abuse, Excessive Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Implied Relationships, It's a real misuse of painkillers, Knives, M/M, Misunderstandings, Revenge Plot, Smoking, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 16:03:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenlogic/pseuds/idontevenlogic
Summary: After an incident that sends Iwaizumi in doctoral care, Oikawa makes a silent vow to search and destroy for the ones responsible for nearly killing Iwaizumi. He vanishes, and now all iwaizumi can think of is finding his boyfriend before he hurts himself and others unnecessarily. However, following Oikawa Tooru's blood trail might be much harder than expected . . . especially since his boyfriend is an ex mercenary.(Sequel to Closer)





	Hunt You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse."  
> —The Godfather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins . . . the official sequel to Closer (which I very much encourage you to read before this fic.) I'm hitting a major roadblock in Kisses Like Shooting Stars, so I thought, "Why not just go in the completely opposite direction of fluff and finally upload and finish working on this sequel of blood and gore?" And I thought that made sense so here we are, I guess.
> 
> Warning: There are mentions of blood and guns in this chapter.

Tokyo felt dry as a bone.

Iwaizumi Hajime hated this kind of weather. Everything felt so still and humid. Normally, he didn’t bother to complain about having to wear a suit to look professional, but his clothes now stuck to him like glue and made him feel as stiff as cardboard. He would mutter to himself now, but this job was so mundane that he found some light in the fact that it wouldn’t last long. Soon, he would be back in his apartment and spending some quality time with Oikawa without the restriction of clothes to separate them. (Oikawa wasn’t working tonight, and Iwaizumi wasn’t supposed to be either, but last minute collections are something that Iwaizumi just doesn’t want to get Kuroo upset about. His boss was stressed out enough as it was.)

But, for now, he was stuck walking with his partner down a congested sidewalk towards Ukai’s restaurant, the buzz of evening activities surrounding them and giving the city a quiet sense of life. Nekoma was paid by Ukai for protection, as the location of the establishment was on the line between territories. Additionally, Ukai’s success garnered quite a bit of attention from various parties, and it was Nekoma’s job to tell said parties to fuck off. Ukai Keishin and Takeda Ittetsu were their, shall we say, professional chemists. Any drug under the sun that you wanted to smoke or shoot up, they can make it. However, because of their cover as a kitchen and bar, it goes to Nekoma to handle distribution and keeping the eyes of the police away from the pair.

Ukai and Kuroo had a partnership that the two were certain would last a long time, beneficial for both of them. So, protection of Ukai’s restaurant, Crow Bar, was a top priority.

“Do ya think Ukai’ll give us free drinks?” Bokuto wondered aloud. He walked with a jovial skip in his step. There were certain things that could bring Bokuto down. A text message from Akaashi saying he cant make their date because of work, passing by a dead puppy on the street, and the ending to the movie _Citizen Kane_ , but bad weather, horrid and hot, wasn’t one of them.

“When has Ukai ever given us free drinks?” Iwaizumi asked. “He already pays Kuroo thousands for protection and to distribute his drugs. The least we can do is pay for our drinks in full.”

“But free booze tastes so much better than regular alcohol!”

“It tastes the same, Bokuto.”

“But does it, Iwaizumi? Does it really?” Bokuto asked, a teasing glint in his golden eyes. “We should’ve brought Akaashi and Oikawa. We could’ve made a double date out of this job.”

“Ah, yes, the perfect date, picking up protection money from your yakuza clan’s favorite drug chemist,” Iwaizumi drawled. “A _Breaking Bad_ date. How romantic. How are you planning to propose to Akaashi, then? Cocaine compressed into a diamond mold for the ring?”

“Iwaizumi, that’s stupid. I’m obviously going to use meth,” Bokuto laughed.

Despite what he said, Oikawa might have enjoyed going with Iwaizumi and Bokuto on the job. Iwaizumi wouldn’t put it past him to somehow find the whole ordeal enjoyable, but Iwaizumi wanted his boyfriend to enjoy his night off. Oikawa had been working late most of the week and definitely deserved a nice, relaxing night. It was supposed to be a night for them, but when Kuroo gives an order, Iwaizumi has to follow through.

If they weren’t in the situation they were in currently in, Iwaizumi might’ve argued to get his night off, but with Daishou Suguru trying to interfere with them in every job or deal Nekoma took on, there wasn’t any time to sit and argue with the kumicho. And Iwaizumi wasn’t one to give any quarter. Daishou Suguru had threatened Kozume Kenma, the kumicho’s, boyfriend, and Bokuto’s Akaashi Keiji as well, but even worse, he had pulled a gun on Oikawa, and that was more than enough to make Iwaizumi despise the informant with every fibre of his being. If he managed to catch Daishou Suguru alone in a dark alley, Iwaizumi certainly wouldn’t be leaving there without some blood on his hands.

Luckily, the thought didn’t get to linger with him, as the big yet somehow humbling appearance of Ukai’s Crow Bar came into view. It wasn’t the biggest establishment in Tokyo, but that didn’t matter when almost all of the city was willing to wait hours to get inside. It was quite modest with none of the most extravagant exterior and interior decorations, almost appearing like a restaurant from a small town, with the addicting flavors that you just couldn’t seem to get here in the big city.

Iwaizumi and Bokuto respectfully weaved their way through the crowds of people that hoped to be customers before the night was over, careful not to bump any shoulders or run into any kids that were dragged there by their parents. One kid in the line was so uncomfortable that Bokuto gave him the candy bar he’d been hiding in his jacket pocket. Once inside, Shimada Makoto, the host of the restaurant that knew the two of them from their many visits, escorted them to their usual table and brought them a bottle of warmed sake for them as they waited for Ukai and Takeda.

Bokuto happily reached for the rice wine and poured himself a good helping, enough that he would appreciate the drink but not enough to make him tipsy. It took quite a bit of alcohol to make Bokuto tipsy, meaning he was really the only one who could match Iwaizumi in drinking contest. “Brandy and whiskey are great, but nothing beats warm sake,” Bokuto exclaimed.

The wait wasn’t long, but it gave Iwaizumi enough time to fan himself until he didn’t feel so fucking sticky. Ukai and Takeda settled into the table with them a few minutes later. Just as the four were all shaking hands, Ukai snapped his gaze with a slight tilt of his head over his shoulder, and Iwaizumi followed the glance. There, in a corner booth, bickering like an old married couple, sat Hinata Shouyou and Kageyama Tobio. They appeared like they were just out for a meal, but Iwaizumi highly suspected that their being here at the same time as he and Bokuto wasn’t a coincidence. However, either they hadn’t noticed that yakuza had entered the building yet or they were off-duty and knew they couldn’t make a move.

“We’re going to have to make this brief,” Ukai said, taking out a cigarette from the pack in his hands and lighting it. A slithering stream of grey smoke was exhaled from his mouth. “Do us a favor and order something so this doesn’t seem any more suspicious than it is. We’ll slip you the money with your food in a napkin.”

Iwaizumi nodded, understanding the circumstances all too well. “You know us. Get us the money and we’re cool.”

“All right, so, agedashi tofu for the one with zero taste buds and anything with grilled meat for the motherfucker with class,” Ukai laughed, gathering the menus that were normally placed there just for show. It just added to the act.

“You know it,” Bokuto replied, knocking his and Ukai’s fists together.

Sitting back down, Iwaizumi and Bokuto fell into easy, inconspicuous conversation. Bokuto talked about Akaashi, talked about how he could marry the stripper now but was waiting for Akaashi. Iwaizumi talked about Oikawa and how he was still taking more and more pictures, determined to fill up their photo wall and capture every important moment between them. It was fun conversation, where the two could complain about the little things their lovers but also brag about how great they were. However, it was quickly interrupted.

“Iwaizumi Hajime and Bokuto Koutarou! What are you two fuckers doing here?”

Terushima Yuuji appeared seemingly out of nowhere, slinging an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders and laughing. He was a tall man, athletic, and energetic. He looked like a punk really, with an undercut and spiky blond hair, dark brown eyes that could shift from lazy to playful in a second, and various piercings. Looking at him, you wouldn’t suspect that he was the head of a yakuza group centered around rigging elections in foreign countries. He didn’t look smart enough, and thats where people made the first mistake with him.

Terushima Yuuji was never what he seemed. He was powerful, manipulative, and cunning, but he was also a great drinking buddy and a loyal ally to Nekoma, so Iwaizumi and Bokuto never said no to his company.

“Here on a collection?” Terushima asked, settling into the empty seat. Oddly enough, he didn’t reach for a drink. Iwaizumi scrunched his brows together at the sight, but didn’t bring it up. Maybe Terushima was trying to not get drunk so often? Didn’t sound like Terushima, but if Iwaizumi could land a boyfriend like Oikawa, then miracles might really exist. “Is Ukai behind on his payments or something?”

“No, just here for the monthly collection,” Iwaizumi replied truthfully. He and Bokuto clinked their cups together. “What about you? What are you here for?”

“Nothing in particular. Hungry.” Terushima shrugged. “Finished up a job in Canada a couple months ago. The guy we wanted is in charge and I thought I’d come back home to celebrate at one of my favorite joints.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “So, what’s been new with you guys?”

“Terushima, my man. You’ve missed so much! Iwaizumi’s in _looooooove_ ,” Bokuto sang, obnoxiously in pitch.

“Aww, Tin Man, you do have a heart,” Terushima teased, smirking at Iwaizumi and punching his arm. “Who is it? Wait, wait—Let me guess. She’s a beautiful, innocent angel whose family was behind in their debt to Kuroo, but you took pity on them and paid for them only if you could marry their daughter. Am I right?”

“So wrong,” Bokuto laughed, “and disgustingly old fashioned, dude, what the fuck?”

“His name is Oikawa Tooru,” Iwaizumi corrected tersely. “He’s a stripper at Sugawara Koushi’s Diamonds&Sapphires. He’s the Sapphire.” Okay, so maybe Iwaizumi was taking opportunity to brag, but, come on, _Oikawa Tooru was his boyfriend_. Who wouldn’t want to boast about dating the most desired stripper at Diamonds &Sapphires?

“So, you’re getting dicked regularly? Wait, or do you do the dicking?” Terushima asked. His eyebrows were waggling suggestively, and it was just . . . weird. That was the only way Iwaizumi could describe it.

“We take turns,” Iwaizumi deadpanned, not exactly wanting to talk about his sex life in crowded restaurant, but it made Bokuto and Terushima burst into peals of laughter at his “wording.” Terushima lacked something called tact. He didn’t know when it was appropriate to bring up certain subjects, specifically Iwaizumi’s sex life, which was always a topic he was never allowed near. Luckily, the food arrived and the napkin was dropped into Iwaizumi’s lap, which waived any other silly conversation.

“That it?” Bokuto asked.

“Every coin,” Ukai replied, lighting another cigarette. And people got after Iwaizumi whenever he smoked. Compared Ukai, Iwaizumi practically never smoked. “I would eat and leave as fast as you can. The _birds_ are getting restless.”

Terushima’s eyes widened a fraction. “There’s cops in here?” he whispered harshly, looking around carelessly. Terushima hadn’t exactly taken time to master the fine art of the poker face, so he looked like a frightened squirrel by darting his gaze across the whole restaurant. He must’ve done something bad for him to be this jumpy. The cops didn’t usually faze Terushima like this.

“Heading towards us, yeah,” Iwaizumi muttered, as he straightened himself in his seat. Ukai made himself scarce by disappearing into the kitchen, mustering up some excuse about backed up orders. Bokuto put aside the sake and Terushima fidgeted uncomfortably. All he while, Kageyama and Hinata were making their way towards them, weaving past tables of customers and nodding politely to the women and children.

“Kageyama, Hinata,” Iwaizumi addressed, extending his hand. Hinata, being the friendlier of the two, eagerly shook it while Kageyama examined the friendly gesture like it was a venomous snake. “How are you two kiddos tonight? Off-duty?” He hadn’t meant to sound so mocking, like Oikawa would sound, but the second he chose the word “kiddos” there was no way he wouldn’t sound demeaning.

“Or are you two on _date_?” Bokuto asked, grinning widely. His smile only grew when the officers could only stammer out half sentences instead of giving an actual answer. “You are, aren’t you? Well, isn’t that adorable? Sounds like every cop movie where the lead detective gets a cute sergeant as a partner. Kageyama is the beaten down, cold-hearted detective that learns to love once to meets the doe-eyed newbie that is Hinata.”

“And why are you here?” Kageyama asked, effectively ignoring Bokuto’s words and focusing on Terushima, the weak link of the group it seemed. Smart move, Iwaizumi mentally applauded him. “Three men from two different yakuza clans meeting in what is sometimes suspected to be a meeting place for drug dealers? Sounds a bit suspicious.”

“Sounds like you couldn’t pick a nicer date for Hinata and came here instead,” Iwaizumi replied. “Can’t do anything but work?”

“Honestly, Hinata, you should dump the statue and find a man that will treat you like the treasure you are,” Bokuto added on, picking up his knife and cutting into the garlic and red miso porterhouse in front of him.

“Oi, leave my partner alone, all right?” Hinata objected, puffing out his chest and stepping right next to Iwaizumi, almost like he was trying to square up to him. He was such a short kid. “We here on a date, sure, but we spied some suspicious behavior and decided to investigate, to do our job. So, unless you want to spend the night in a cell, I suggest you tell us what you’re doing here and stop running your mouths off and mocking my partner! We’re going to be the ones to put you away so watch what you say, because we’re going to be the best detectives in Tokyo!”

“And other gender neutral names to call your lover,” Terushima said, joining in on the teasing of the two officers. He waved a hand to Iwaizumi and Bokuto, signaling his leave, and stood, now smirking down at Hinata. “You’re such a little thing, are you sure you aren’t just a cadet?”

“We’re detectives,” Hinata said proudly. “Best in our year.” He stepped up to Terushima and tried to pull off an intimidating glare. Bokuto chuckled and Terushima nearly burst into laughter, but Iwaizumi kept himself from nodding with approval. They may be bigger than you, might be stronger than you, but they’ll only really beat you if you start to act like you are smaller than they are. Hinata was a proud, confident cop if there ever was one. Iwaizumi had to give credit where credit was due, even if they were at odds.

Kageyama stood beside Hinata, giving Terushima a glare that would frighten the dead back into hiding. “Savor your freedom while you can,” he said. “Someday my partner and I are going to take all of you down.”

“Police brutality is frowned upon,” Bokuto reminded him. “Use unnecessary force while bringing us in or during questioning and we will most definitely walk.”

There was that twinkle in his golden eyes. He was having fun. Iwaizumi didn’t blame him. It had been a while since Tokyo’s streets had been patrolled by such dedicated officers, and as such there was no real danger from the police. Hinata and Kageyama’s appearance made some jobs more stressful and fulfilling than they did before. Before, it was too easy, now every yakuza clan had to think about how to avoid running into the cops that now worked with fervor.

“Who needs police brutality when we can gather the evidence and witnesses to convict you?” Kageyama countered. “Detective Hinata and I don’t plan on using unfair tactics to bring you down. We plan to do our job and do it right. Criminals, no matter how smart or organized, mess up eventually, and Hinata and I will be there when you do.”

“Well, as much as I love a good underdog story, I’m heading out,” Terushima said, meandering past Hinata, patting the shorter individual on the head like he was a child.

Iwaizumi and Bokuto both gave him a single wave and then turned their attention back to the officers. It was time to finish eating, drop off the money, and then Iwaizumi could hurry home and finally spend some well-deserved time with his boyfriend. “As fun as this conversation has been, detectives,” Iwaizumi said. “As you can see, our food has arrived and we’re hungry, so unless you have something you would like to accuse us of, I would suggest you go back and enjoy the rest of your date and leave us to eat in peace. Have a nice night, gentlemen.”

It wasn’t long after the detectives left them that Iwaizumi and Bokuto hurriedly scarfed down their food and left the Crow Bar. Bokuto offered to take the money to Kuroo so Iwaizumi could head home, and his partner accepted the offer immediately, turning on his heels and began speed walking in the direction of home. The heat didn’t seem to bother him anymore and moving past people wasn’t such a trial, as every step brought him closer and closer to his boyfriend. It had been a few months since they could have an evening together, so he had been looking forward to this night for some time.

Most nights, one would stumble in past midnight and drop unceremoniously onto the bed and cuddle with the other, who was mostly likely already fast asleep. It was hard not being able to see each other ver often, but what mattered was that they were making it work, that they stilled worked. It mattered that the butterflies in their chests when they kissed never died down after time, that they found comfort in each other’s hands rather than their own, that they could come home to see one another, awake or otherwise, and wrap their arms around one another.

Iwaizumi worried that it was too perfect, that they were perpetually stuck in the honeymoon stage, but maybe that’s just what it’s like when you fall in love. Everything feels right, even after a fight, because they’re still them and even though they disagree, they still love each other unconditionally. They were almost ridiculous. They almost had a routine. Oikawa could be condescendingly snippy and mocking with others and it was up to Iwaizumi to draw the line and reel him back in, by occasionally smacking him over the head or dragging him off with a little more force than necessary. Oikawa never complained. Sure, he acted like he did, but he never particularly minded being dragged off by Iwaizumi.

The two would follow each other whenever they could, because, more often than not, they were apart.

Iwaizumi thought about this as he took the steps to their apartment, two at a time, knowing fully well that it would be faster than the elevator. He hadn’t really put much time into thinking about these things, never thought he would get the chance to in his line of work. But here he was, living in a fairly comfy apartment with a man he had fallen in love with. Something that Iwaizumi had often considered was too good of a future for him. However, he was Oikawa’s rock, a pillar for him to lean on when he remembered his times as a mercenary, and Oikawa was Iwaizumi’s beacon, there to brighten his day and draw him in when everything else seemed to go horrendously wrong.

Smiling to himself, Iwaizumi unlocked the door to their apartment and stepped inside. Iwaizumi had just enough time to look around him before he heard Oikawa shout, “Incoming!”

Little Annie, their small pit bull/labrador cross puppy came barreling towards him like he had been gone for years, tongue hanging out from the side of her mouth. Iwaizumi bent down and she happily leaped into his arms and immediately began to assault him with sloppy licks. She was small, a runt they had guessed, with warm, chocolate fur and honey colored eyes that bounced with delight whenever she played with her toys. Iwaizumi couldn’t stop the careless laughter that slipped from his mouth, and Oikawa stepped out of the bedroom at the sound. As usual, their lazy Russian blue kitten, aptly named Blue, was draped across his shoulder, soundly asleep.

“I swear, she loves you more than she loves me,” Oikawa chuckled, padding over and giving Iwaizumi a lingering kiss on the lips in greeting. Iwaizumi noticed, with delight, that Oikawa was wearing nothing except his alien pajama pants. The night could definitely be redeemed. “Welcome home, Iwa-chan. Hungry?”

“I ate at Ukai’s.” Annie struggled in his arms, indicating that she wanted to run again. Iwaizumi let her down gently and she dashed then leaped onto the couch, snatching up one of her toys and shaking it vigorously to show her owners just how good she was at subduing chew toys.

“Lucky bastard,” Oikawa huffed, playfully swatting him on the arm, still grinning. “And you didn’t bring me any leftovers?”

“Well, I was hungry.”

“And you didn’t think of your boyfriend, who might want some?”

“Too hungry to think.”

“Uh huh. Sure, Iwa-chan. Selfish, selfish.”

Iwaizumi playfully raised an eyebrow and said nothing. He waited for Oikawa to gingerly place Blue onto the sofa, before wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist and kissing the back of his neck. Oikawa giggled and squirmed a bit. He was ticklish. “Missed you,” he murmured, trailing his kissed up to Oikawa’s ear and humming when Oikawa leaned into his touch.

“Missed you too,” Oikawa replied breathily. He turned in Iwaizumi’s arms and wasted no time in kissing him squarely not he mouth. It was sudden but turned languid and lazy, their lips sliding across the others, savoring. When they pulled apart, he whispered, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Iwaizumi molded their mouths together again, hoping Oikawa would pick up on his impatience. He received a giggle in return and the kiss turned hot. Iwaizumi was just about to pick Oikawa up and carry him into the bedroom when there was a hesitant knock. It startled the two of the them, and Oikawa knit his brows together, untrusting.

“Ignore it,” he pleaded, kissing Iwaizumi again.

“What if it’s Bokuto or Kuroo?” Iwaizumi asked, turning towards the door. “Has to be important if they’re showing up here this late, especially since I just left Bokuto to get the money to Kuroo.”

“Then I’m going to kill them for being major cockblockers,” Oikawa huffed irritably, relenting. He moved to the couch, prepared to holdback their puppy, as she was easily excitable whenever new people or familiar people entered the apartment. “I’ll hold Annie. You go tell your partner or boss to fuck off so _we_ —" he motioned between them "—can get to fucking.”

Iwaizumi laughed, “I’ll say exactly that, then.”

Regrettably, releasing his boyfriend and dragging his feet toward the door, Iwaizumi really wondered as to what could be so important that Kuroo and Bokuto would further interrupt his day off. So, he opened the door was puzzled to be greeted by tufts of blond hair that could only belong to one Terushima Yuuji.

“Terushima? What are you doing here? This really isn’t a good—” Iwaizumi gave him a quizzical glance and Oikawa asked who the hell Terushima was, but the voice was distant, dull noise in the background, as Iwaizumi’s eyes landed on the gun his friend held. It was like a knife soon to be sunk and twisted in his back.

Terushima was staring at him, visibly distressed, and his hands shook as he sought to keep the gun level. He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. Iwaizumi could only hear the blood thrumming through his ears, every instinct screaming at him to duck away from the muzzle of the gun, but the other part of him was screaming just as loud, begging to know why Terushima was doing this. Finally, instinct won out and Iwaizumi lunged to bat away the gun, but his friend turned enemy’s finger slipped and fired the gun.

Iwaizumi fell to his knees, gasping silently as red flooded his vision, and Terushima screamed, “I’M SORRY! DAISHOU SUGURU MADE ME DO IT! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!” and fled as quickly as he’d come.

Overcome with a cold, sinking feeling, Iwaizumi reached out blindly and Oikawa was there, suddenly at his side. Iwaizumi knew that Oikawa was rolling over onto his back to prevent him from bleeding out and was gasping helplessly as he ran back into the apartment to find a phone. He could hear Oikawa shout something about calling Bokuto and Kuroo, but it didn’t matter, really. Iwaizumi couldn’t even feel the blood seeping into his clothes and staining his skin. He didn’t feel its warmth, but only felt cold as ice and as dry as the Tokyo evening.

* * * * * *

**_A couple days earlier. . . ._ **

Daishou Suguru’s apartment where he conducted almost all of his business was essentially an office that he just so happened to sleep in. The walls carried no photos of family and friends, but were instead lined with bookshelves that were filled with portfolios and binders all labeled after one of the many persons that he held information on. His TV was a constant hum of white noise in the background, occasionally saying something that could catch his attention and lead him to turn up the volume. The second level of the apartment wasn’t any better. Any room, bedroom or closet, was just another place to store more information. It was like the informant needed to live and breathe in the rumors he gathered and bask in the light of his laptop as he searched to discover more, only keeping minimal furniture and often calling for takeout rather than actually cook himself a meal.

Terushima Yuuji had to admit, although it seemed like Daishou Suguru was simply obsessed and probably couldn’t be of much use in a fight, the calculating eyes and cutting smirk said otherwise. So, he made himself comfortable on the sofa in the makeshift living room of Daishou’s apartment, content to wait until he could start pushing buttons. He watched a boring news segment as he listened to Daishou type away at the computer, the clacking of keys seeming almost impossibly fast.

“Don’t you have anything to drink?” Terushima asked, lightly tapping the barrel of his nickel plated M1911A1 against the side of his leg. The men he brought with him were just as at ease as he was. Sure, they might not be as smart or sneaky as the Snake, but they were certainly a force to be reckoned with, reckless and almost chaotic in their ways of fighting. How can a man that lives on predictions kill something unpredictable? The variables would be too much for the informant to handle, he suspected.

“You’ll find a bottle Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey on a counter in the kitchen,” Daishou replied, still typing away like Terushima hadn’t even spoken a word. “You haven’t had a glass since your job in Canada, right? Congratulations on that, by the way. Rigging elections is never an easy task for us foreign _investors_. I’m sure business with the gangs at border between the U.S.A and Canada will be much more amicable in their relations with Japanese yakuza now.”

“Sweet talking suckers is always easy, and if a few smiles don’t do it, there’s always bullets to do the talking for me. Besides, they were new to the game so it was a breeze to ensure things went my way,” Terushima chuckled, standing up and making his way into the kitchen. It looked empty and looked completely untouched. On the counter, though, as promised was a bottle filled with amber alcohol. “This isn’t any of the American shit is it that has propylene glycol in it, right? That shit has side effects if you have too much of it. You know Americans put that stuff in their antifreeze?”

“I had it shipped in straight from Canada,” Daishou replied, finally closing out whatever he was working on and standing up from his desk. He stretched his limbs, wincing at the pops and cracks in his back before finally relaxing his shoulders. He really needed a massage. He waltzed over to the couch and took a seat across from Terushima who had grabbed the whole bottle and was straight from it.

“So, down to brass tacks,” Terushima sighed after taking a particularly long swig of the spiced alcohol. “You said you wanted someone dead?”

“Dead would be pleasant turn, but unnecessary. Anyhow, I highly doubt that even you could pull that off,” Daishou replied, easily crossing his legs and leaning back against the leather cushions of his couch. He inspected his nails with laziness.

“That’s not very nice, Snake, my men and I are highly capable,” Terushima pouted. He didn’t really mind being underestimated. It only meant that it would be easier to stab people in the back when the time arose. When you’re underestimated, then you’re allowed the freedom of unpredictability, something Terushima Yuuji loved to use to his advantage. “So, what’s the job?”

“You know a fellow by the name of Iwaizumi Hajime, right?” Daishou asked conversationally, like he was talking about a stranger he met at a market somewhere. “He has quite a reputation.”

“The bastard has beaten me at one too many drinking games,” Terushima laughed loudly, and Daishou could see the silver stud on his tongue. “I respect him enough. Loyal to a fault to Nekoma and is real close with Kuroo Tetsurou and Bokuto Koutarou. One of the best shots among the yakuza from what I’ve heard.” He raised an eyebrow and took another swig of the whiskey. “Johzenji is close with Nekoma, Snake. You’re not asking us to breach the trust we have with them, are you? Kuroo won’t be very kind to either of us if I move against him, and don’t think I won’t hesitate to drag your name into this if we do take the job.”

“Oh no,” Daishou dismisses with a wave of his hand. “No, no, no. I fully expect you to bring my name into this. I’m not after Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, or even Iwaizumi Hajime himself. I’m after something much more valuable.”

“You want me to take out one of the most feared men in all of the current yakuza families. His death would be a serious blow to Nekoma as a whole, and if you’re looking to overthrow or demolish Nekoma, what could be more valuable than that?”

“A one Oikawa Tooru.”

“The former mercenary that Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro brought in for Sugawara Koushi?” Terushima asked, laughter completely subsided. “Iwaizumi’s connected to him? I know Kuroo Tetsurou has made deals with Diamonds&Sapphires in the past, but I don’t think Sugawara Koushi would let any of his Jewels grow any attachments in case they need to switch locations.”

“Oh, how things have changed since you left for rigging election rounds,” Daishou sighed, allowing a teasing tone to slip into his voice. “Don’t know if you know this, but ever since that ex-cop came into his life, Sugawara Koushi has gone soft. He’s let people in his business fall in love, and Oikawa Tooru is completely and utterly devoted to Iwaizumi Hajime, and vice versa. They have an apartment together and everything, plus a puppy and kitten that they adore.”

“So, you want us to try and kill Iwaizumi Hajime, knowing that if we do, Oikawa Tooru will definitely come after us like a fucking bloodhound?” Terushima asked, licking his lips to lap up stray droplets of the whiskey running down the sides of his mouth. “I’m listening. Why do you want us to do it?”

“Ultimately, it will lead to the downfall of Nekoma,” Daishou admitted. No point in lying, the truth would come out eventually. Even if Terushima refused the job, Daishou had a string of mercenaries that had it out for Oikawa Tooru ready to take on the job, but hiring a yakuza was just the icing on the cake. Kuroo Tetsurou would be furious if he was betrayed by another yakuza family.

“Got a vendetta against men who won’t suck your dick at your command?”

Daishou Suguru had a sugary grin, false but with hidden promises, but now that smile had shortened itself into a dangerously thin line. He cocked his head to the side and gave Terushima a seemingly blank, befuddled expression. If Terushima hadn’t know who Daishou Suguru was, he might’ve thought that he’d just flummoxed the other, but since this was Daishou Suguru, he knew he’d fucked up. This was the informant that had Tokyo’s police department and several other yakuza families wrapped around his little finger and had them begging for his services. Terushima wasn’t wise to try and mock him.

“My motives are very simple, Terushima. I like messing with people,” Daishou answered, in all seriousness. “You can be quite the vicious enabler yourself, can’t you?” It was too simple a response. That wasn’t the whole picture. It was too clean cut. “I want you to attack Iwaizumi Hajime, Bokuto Koutarou as well if you must, but your primary target needs be Iwaizumi Hajime. Disguise yourselves, go naked, or as you always do, I don’t care. Just do as I request and you won’t suffer any harsh repercussions and be paid a wonderful sum as well.”

“How much?” Terushima asked, raising an eyebrow. An informant was often paid well, but one often employed by the police wasn’t usually the richest of the snitches.

“How much do you want?”

“We’ll be betraying friends for you, someone we aren’t all that close to. So, convince me, Daishou Suguru. How much will you give us?”

Terushima was pushing his luck, and he knew it, but he wanted to test the waters. How much did it take to get Daishou Suguru to snap? Terushima had heard a little here and there about Daishou’s colorful childhood, but the stories were often like smudges of ink, muddled and always different from the last. So while there were sprinkles of truth among the rumors, nothing was entirely certain. That was one aspect of his power. He had words and information on others and lorded it over them, but no one could find a single thing on him to try and fight back.

Daishou’s smile curved into something wicked, a slice of white teeth that remind Terushima of a blade cutting into skin, swiftly and effortlessly. “How about this, Terushima Yuuji? You complete the job however you see fit, and then come back here and tell me all the gory details, whether he’s dead or not, as that part is still up to you, and I’ll give you whatever amount I believe suits how well you did.”

Terushima took another swig of the whiskeys, welcoming the distracting burn down his throat. He suddenly didn’t feel good, the burden of the potential job now weighing down on him like lead. Betraying a fellow clan for an informant wouldn’t be taken lightly. If Nekoma didn’t get to him first, then the Aoba Jōsai smugglers or Shiratorizawa would, and while he might be able to handle the smugglers, Shiratorizawa was an army. He would be dust under Ushijima Wakatoshi’s feet before he knew it. Though, as he looked at Daishou Suguru, something even more frightening stirred in his stomach, like poison.

“I can see you still have reservations about the job,” Daishou sighed. He stood and went back to his computer. “If I can guarantee you safety from the other yakuza families, will you accept the job?”

But this wasn’t just about betraying another yakuza family, this was about betraying Iwaizumi Hajime in particular. He was a good man, a good fighter, and a good drinker. So he wasn’t just betraying a man from another yakuza family, he was betraying a friend and the member of an ally’s family. Terushima was known for actively seeking out and obtaining for the better of his clan, and killing whatever he needed to get a job done. He’s killed many yakuza members before and fled the country soon afterwards, but he didn’t know what he would do this time around.

“So, you’re not concerned about your own safety?” Daishou Suguru was studying him now, opening up a file on his computer.

“Not so much, we have influences that can get me out of the country until Nekoma cools down, if need be, but I think that this job is asking too much myself and my men,” Terushima replied. “Nekoma is an ally, often hires us, and I don’t think I’m ready to cut those ties yet, if I ever do.” He stood, placing the emptied bottle of alcohol onto the battle and moved towards the door. “We won’t be accepting the job. Have a nice da—”

“Misaki Hana is such a pretty little flower, isn’t she?” Daishou’s words stopped them, and Terushima could feel his hands begin to shake, both with ire and fear. How the fuck did Daishou Suguru have something on the important woman in all of his men’s lives? They wouldn’t be where they were without her there to keep them focused. She was good and— “A pity really. She’s pretty smart, graduated from university with fairly high grades, and what this? Oh, she has a family that gets together every year for a family trip. How nice, if only we could all live like that, right?”

Terushima gripped his gun until he couldn’t feel anything but the cold metal pressing against his bones. He turned around and marched right up to Daishou’s desk, raising the gun to the center of the informant’s forehead. “You hurt her, and I will kill you,” he seethed.

“Kill me, then, and watch her die,” Daishou smiled. He turned his computer around so Terushima could see the screen. There was a live video feed of Misaki strolling down a street with her cousin, laughing. The two were close, Terushima knew, and that might be why Misaki was allowing herself to be so open, but that meant she was vulnerable. Whoever was taking the video was following them was far enough behind to be considered inconspicuous. “If the men I have tailing her don’t hear from me soon, then they’ve been ordered to shoot without hesitation.”

Terushima grit his teeth and let his gun drop onto the desk. _I’m sorry, Iwaizumi. I’m sorry, Kuroo. I’m sorry, Oikawa. I’m sorry, Bokuto. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry . . ._

“Good boy,” Daishou sneered, folding his hands together as he kicked his feet up to rest on his desk. Oh, he looked so goddamn comfortable, didn’t he? It pissed Terushima off in the worst way. “How are you feeling about cooperating with me now, Terushima Yuuji?”

“You’ve convinced me,” Terushima bit out savagely. At his dangerous tone, Daishou’s grin grew even wider, like someone had just given him the best present in the whole wide world. The son of a bitch had known that Terushima wouldn’t agree to take the job and had been planning to use this the entire time, but because he was such a theatric bastard, he was waiting for the dramatic moment to reveal the ace up his sleeve. “Just don’t kill her, call of your goons and _leave her alone_. I’ll personally complete the job myself, just leave her alone.”

“She’ll be monitored until you complete the job,” Daishou replied. “You understand, right? She’s insurance.”

Without another word, Terushima turned on his heels and speed walked out of the apartment. His men followed him just as hurriedly. Everyone was on edge. If there was one thing that the entirety of Johzenji agreed on, it was this: No one ever threatened Misaki Hana. Daishou Suguru would pay for this eventually, in pain and blood, but for now . . . If Terushima had to shoot Iwaizumi for one of his best friends, and could then later explain himself, then he could live with being hated for as along as he had to.

* * * * * *

_“You know I’d burn down the world if anything ever happened to you, right, Iwa-chan?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream at me on tumblr if you want, if you have any questions or would like to know the specific backstories of any of the characters that haven't been mentioned or appeared in the fic yet: http://idontevenlogic.tumblr.com
> 
> (My blog is a mess, and I am sorry.)


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